


i want your sexuality

by meios



Series: kinktober 2017 / goretober 2017 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Sthenolagnia, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meios/pseuds/meios
Summary: "baby let's go, lose all self-control."





	i want your sexuality

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Public / Biting / Sthenolagnia (Muscles/Strength)  
> (this is the best thing i've written in a while)

Plush lips reddened from the teeth that worry them crack and smile on the face to which they belong, wandering hands spreading amusement through his body like a flock of birds, and his back collides with the fake marble of a kitchen counter and he laughs, a singular ringing thing, pleasant and deep. Tim ducks his head to hide his face in the crook of the other man’s shoulder, diverting from the proffered kiss into a short lick along the expanse of neck he can find; he can feel the shiver that runs through the other man.

 

“What’s your name?” asks the man, and Tim laughs again, pulls himself up onto the counter so that he towers over the stranger, and he cups his face between two cold hands, and the way the man looks at him is akin to a disciple looking at Jesus.

 

“Tim,” he whispers, and the man smiles.

 

“Dick.”

 

Tim smiles, their mouths centimeters apart, and he’s whispering _hi, Dick,_ before they collide, like car crashes and male dominance in deer and they open each other up as fire does to wood, tongues warring and embracing as they do. Tim wraps his legs around Dick’s waist, pulls him flush to his own body, and the music in the other room is all but forgotten, powerful bass reverberating against the walls like their heartbeats are doing, and Dick is groaning into Tim’s mouth.

 

Tim, who can’t seem to pull away long enough to breathe, as if that’s something he needs to do right now when he’s faced with a beautiful man who reaches around to slip his hands underneath Tim’s waistband, squeeze bare skin with hands on _fire_. He bites, though, playful, teeth capturing his lower lip and tugging, soothing it with his tongue. Dick’s breath stutters, and he pulls Tim impossibly close, and when Tim does it again, the moan that escapes is nearly as loud as the blood rushing through his ears.

 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” whispers Dick when they finally part, hair in his eyes and mouth kiss-bruised scarlet. Tim does not reply right away, instead leans back in to kiss Dick’s chin, his nose, his throat, brushing his teeth along the ridge there. “Christ, Tim, you’re gonna kill me.”

 

“Not yet,” Tim whispers, smirks, a chuckle on his mouth—Dick rolls his eyes and kisses it off of him: that amusement begetting excitement begetting need, desire, hope. Tim’s hands flutter in delight, unable to determine a suitable place to rest: Dick’s face, his neck, his arms, repeat. Soon, he finds solace in Dick’s hair, soft and black as night, and when their noses brush and they exhale together, they are a little too lost together.

 

Tim bites him again, draws back to attack Dick’s neck, sucking bruises that shall not be hidden, regardless of how high a collar he dons in the morning, and when he eventually breaks skin, tongues at it like a bat, Dick’s legs appear as jelly and Tim can feel the way he tries to quiet himself. “Be as loud as you want, baby,” he whispers, nipping at his earlobe. “No one’s gonna find us. They’re all doing the same thing anyway.”

 

“Shit,” Dick curses, and he’s picking Tim up like he weighs nothing, legs still looped around his waist, and for a moment, Tim thinks he’s pushed it a bit too far and that maybe he’ll be dropped and left alone, but no, Dick only brings him outside, warm summer night’s air greeting them like a hug, and it is only when Dick presses him up against the house that he is graced with a kiss like explosions, hidden in the shadows but still so painfully close to the people smoking pot by the little fire pit in the backyard, and Dick is _still holding him up_ and Tim is encompassed by everything that Dick is in that moment, from the smell of his cologne and of smoke to the way his erection presses up into his ass like it’s meant to be there, wrapped like a present, like a promise.

 

Tim chokes out a moan, high-pitched and delicious, as if wrung from him when Dick attacks his throat, returns the marks tenfold, teeth sharp and mindset even sharper. Dick’s name is the only thing he knows now, like every fantasy he’s ever had has now been replaced by thoughts of this man like a superhero, rescuing him from this hell-house he lives in, and like every superhero, he doesn’t know where Dick came from, and he frankly doesn’t care, so long as he keeps tracking his jugular with his canines like he’s doing right now.

 

“Please,” Tim says, and Dick moans.

 

“I don’t have anything with me, wasn’t expecting to do this,” Dick confesses, intentions known, and Tim whimpers, squirms when Dick presses himself against Tim’s ass again, insistent and hot and big. “God, I want to, though. You’re so hot, Timmy, God—”

 

“My room,” he murmurs against Dick’s mouth, stealing away his breath with the sweet kiss he presses into his skin, another promise, another piece of intention. “Second floor. We can—God, if you mean it, we _can_ , Dick.”

 

“Yes,” and that’s all Tim needs, breaking from Dick’s hold to stand on legs that don’t feel as if they belong to him, but he’s gripping Dick’s hand as tightly as possible, and he leads him back into the house among the wolf whistles the stoners now greet them with, the pair’s footsteps loud upon the grass.

 

They sweep through the crowd on the lower level, pausing only to press together and kiss, tease with their own bodies and their own lips, words falling heavily on their tongues, the taste of each other intermixed like liquor. The stairs are harder to defeat, but when they do reach the top, Tim pulls out a key and unlocks the third door on the left, ushers Dick inside.

 

They do not bother with the lights, and Tim deposits the key on his desk before turning back to Dick, pushing him back until his knees hit the bed. He means to crouch down, to open Dick’s pants with his teeth, but Dick gives him a look of pure conviction and pulls him closer. “I just wanna fuck you. We can do everything else later, but Christ, I need to get in you right now.”

 

Dick speaks with the fury of angels, begs with the voice of a god, and Tim is powerless but to bend to his will, easing Dick back onto his bed until he’s lying there, head on the pillows, eyes half-lidded and searching as Tim stands and strips. His body is skinny, lean, puckered with muscles that dare not betray the strength there, and though he’s sure Dick has a wider chest, thicker thighs, the other man still gapes at him, jaw dropped like he’s witnessing a miracle. In the bedside table drawer, Tim grabs a condom and a thing of lube, and the thought of what’s to come is enough to make his cock jump, hanging heavy between his legs.

 

Dick sits up to tear off his own shirt, throws it to the side so as to pull Tim over to him, and the skin upon skin is enough to electrify the both of them, a kiss pressed clumsily onto mouths and jaws and necks, and Dick is handed the lube, the condom placed on the comforter beside them, and he slathers his thick fingers with a generous amount, teases Tim’s rim with gentle touches like butterflies.

 

“Come on,” Tim whispers, and from his place atop Dick, he can see the darkness of his eyes now, pupils fat and glassy as he presses his finger inside. Soon after, it’s two and then three, and as Dick stretches him, Tim’s moans increase in volume and frequency, the want of release turning into a dirty need, like death threatens him if he isn’t impaled on Dick as soon as possible, and he relays this in shorter terms, hands scrabbling at Dick’s shoulders, back arching like a bow string.

 

He pulls his fingers out, rolls the condom on with shaking hands, and when he himself up, Dick kisses him, hard. But it’s not enough, never enough, and before Dick can press inside, Tim is taking it fast, burying Dick inside of himself with a shout, like he’s sated and he’s whole. Dick swears under his breath, powerless as Tim lifts himself up and sits down again, fucking himself so entirely that Dick can only roll his hips to meet Tim.

 

It’s here, in the silence of their skins slapping and their moans intertwining, that the door opens, a couple falling through with giggles and kisses, and it is here where Tim looks around, not stilling, but fucking himself faster, and it’s when he meets the couple’s eyes, each, that he grins and throws his head back, and Dick can barely react save for his fingers digging bruises into pale hips. The door shuts quickly, the couple fleeing, but it is there in their heads: the knowledge of being caught, of unlocked doors, the memory of wolf whistles and intent like echoes on the caverns of their bodies.

 

Dick does not last long, burying his face into Tim’s chest as he comes, and even then, Tim does not relent, squeezing and milking him, burying his cock against his oversensitive prostate until Dick is trembling and whining high in his throat and Tim’s hand is on his own cock, and then Dick’s, and then both of them, and Tim is lost in the sensations and the kiss that Dick gives him, dirty and insistent and everything he’s been promised, finally sends him over the edge, and their chests, their chins are painted white and Tim’s screams are muffled and swallowed down.

 

And it’s only when they extricate themselves from each other that they speak, Dick tossing the condom into the trashcan and Tim using his shirt to clean himself and Dick up, and they still twitch every so often, on every third breath, and when their eyes meet again, they smile, and Tim rests a hand on Dick’s face, whispers, “Stay the night.”

 

Dick laughs a bit, voice hoarse. “Fuck, dude, I’ll stay forever.”

 

Tim smiles, big, worries his lower lip. “Promises, promises.”


End file.
